Out Of Reach
by coffee dazed
Summary: dark and angsty 'what if gwen had lost everything after her father died'
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: never ever will I own anything to do with the BBC or 'Merlin', I'm just borrowing them and make no profit at all**

**Note: a darker fic where what if after the death of her father, Gwen was dismissed from castle life and lost the house?

* * *

**

**Out Of Reach**

"Guinevere?" His voice is soft, hesitant as he questions whether or not he has made a mistake.

It's been four long years since he last saw her, when he had to tell her that she no longer had a place in the castle and she no longer had a home either. Four long years since she took the news in typical fashion – quietly and stoically. Melodrama had never been in her nature and she refused to show him any weakness in the face of the dramatic events which had left her father dead and his name tainted with the (false) accusations of magic and witchcraft.

It had also tainted her own name and she had become virtually unemployable overnight regardless of her skills and previous position.

* * *

The dark head of curls turns at the sound of the name and it is, indeed, Guinevere. His heart skips a beat at finding her again. There has been no news of her all this time, it has been as if she never existed since his father had banned all mention of her and her father's names.

"Sire." She dips a low curtsey but gives no indication that she knows him as anything other than the heir to Camelot. His blue eyes meet her brown ones and he is saddened that they do not light up at seeing him. Unlike before where they had been full of life and fun, the eyes he saw now were expressionless, he might even say hard or empty.

He can tell that times have been hard for her. Both her cloak and what he can see of the dress beneath are faded and threadbare in places although they look clean. She has lost none of her good hygiene habits despite what her lot might now be.

"How are you?" He asks. He has so many questions but knows he cannot give voice to them all.

"I am well." Her voice is as he remembers, gentle and clear but now there is no emotion and her tone is careful, her words deliberate.

"Where have you been? What have you been doing?" He wants to sit down with her, share stories of the castle with her, catch up on lost time but he cannot and her demeanour does not invite familiarity even if he could.

"I have been working." She offers no other answer. She deems those few words to be sufficient.

* * *

The four years that have passed have dramatically changed her fortunes and she barely remembers the sheltered girl who once saw beauty and light in everything around her. It has been nigh on impossible to find work with the reputation she was dismissed with and she is left with few options.

She does not want to reminisce with this man, she can hardly recollect her previous life which bears no resemblance to the one she has now. She sees what she recognises as happiness that he has met her but she has no desire to share. She makes to curtsey and leave but he speaks again.

"Morgana still misses you." He tries to spark some feeling from her but with no luck.

She nods in acknowledgement and replies only with, "I hope she is well."

He decides to play his trump card. "Merlin would be delighted to see you." He knows that they always had a special bond.

"I am sorry." There is no change of expression. "I hope he is well," she repeats the phrase.

He is at a loss with the woman who is now a stranger standing in front of him. She takes the opportunity to leave and bows low.

"Good day, my lord." She leaves him standing on the spot, staring after her in bewilderment.

* * *

When she is sure she is safely out of sight, she ducks into an alcove and lowers her head as she feels the hot prickle of tears forming. She curses and angrily brushes away the moisture which threaten to fall. There is no place for tears now. She takes a few deep breaths and steps back out to the street again and makes her way far out to the outskirts of the lower town.

She comes to a large-ish building which displays the symbol of a rearing stallion from a sign hanging over the doorway. It proclaims itself to be a traveller's inn.

She goes inside and the woman behind the counter informs her that there are guests to be waited upon.

Steeling herself, she takes off the cloak and smooths a hand over her hair before knocking on a door and entering.

* * *

Her brain blocks out any feelings she might have, makes her numb to the crippling terror she used to experience when she first started this job – it was the only place who would employ her after weeks of desperately trying to find a job. She was literally starving when she happened upon this place.

She fixes a smile on her face as she fights the desire to cringe away as a rough, calloused hand traces her jawline then down her neck and across her collarbone.

Her mind used to scream when similar hands would unlace her bodice and pull away her gown. Now, though, her mind is silent.

Now, she goes through the motions of expressing pleasure when all she feels is… nothing.

It is just another nameless, faceless man. Not the first and far from being the last.

* * *

_**I know this is quite a grim fic and a departure from my usual stories but I wanted to explore what might have become of Gwen if she had lost everything she had because of Uther's persecution of her father.**_

_**Sorry if it was a bit depressing but I would very much appreciate your reviews**_

_**xx**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: **_I know that I had always thought that I would never continue this fic but I had been revisiting it lately and little half- formed ideas had been coming to me. I don't know how or where they will go or even if they will progress beyond this…

* * *

_

He hurries back to the castle and storms up the stairs and along the corridors to his chambers bellowing for his servant as he goes.

"Merlin! Merlin!"

He throws open the heavy oak door just as Merlin appears running up behind him. They both enter Arthur's chambers before the prince turns to his friend, a feverish glint in his eyes.

"Sire, what's wrong?" Merlin can see that all is not well with his friend.

"I saw her today. I saw Guinevere." He can hear the excitement in his own voice but he can also see the disbelief in his servant's expression.

"Are you sure? It has been four years without any sight or sound of her. We looked everywhere for her." Merlin is worried. It has taken a long time for those who had known the servant girl to get over the loss of her presence.

Morgana had been beside herself, refusing to find another maid until two years had passed. The King's Ward had personally gone out on many expeditions to find her friend but had returned dejectedly each time. She had also begged Arthur to search as well but with similar success.

"I am sure, Merlin. I spoke to her myself."

"Where was she?" Merlin is keen to see her for himself, to speak to her and know that she is well.

"It was in the lower town, I did not speak to her for long though I did mention you and Morgana to her."

"How did she look? Is she well?"

Arthur pauses, unsure how to answer. Now that he had time to think, the truth was she looked tired and jaded, but worse than that, she looked empty. "She is well." He does not consider it to be a total lie and he doesn't want to worry Merlin until they can find out more.

"Where can she have been all this time? Surely, we cannot have missed her if she has been in Camelot?"

* * *

She could kick herself for her carelessness. She is always so careful to keep to either the early mornings or evenings before venturing to the market stalls to buy provisions. She is also careful to stay hidden as much as possible – a shawl or scarf over her head and perhaps covering her chin and mouth. What on earth had possessed her to go out in the afternoon? She concludes that she has become complacent, so used to not being seen that sometimes she feels as if she were invisible.

Moreover, her true identity is her most deeply held secret. Everyone knows her as Lyneth, Gwen is no more – at least not in her waking hours. The 'inn' she works at knows the value of discretion to protect its employees, especially when those employees bring good trade. For the most part, the young women there are hiding from something or someone and providing they bring custom and no ill to The Prancing Horse, the matronly woman called Valmai who owns the establishment is happy to give the protection and cover any of the girls need. Thus, when the search parties for her newest employee had arrived and 'Lyneth' had expressed her wish to remain hidden, Valmai made sure she was not found.

Hearing her true name spoken had taken her by surprise, especially when spoken by a voice she thought she would not hear again. She had answered without thinking and now she had to consider that she might have to leave Camelot completely.

She thinks that perhaps it was what she should have done in the first place when she had been informed by Prince Arthur that she was to leave her home whilst Merlin had stood awkwardly, shamefacedly behind him. She thinks she would have left if not for the fact she had nowhere else to go and no other skills to offer than those of a ladies' maid.

Gwen scoffs to herself. Those were not the only skills she has now but they can only get her work in a specialised area. If those that she had known in the castle could see her now, they would be horrified. But, she reminds herself, she had been left with no choice. She had had to leave, cut off all ties to her old life.

She regrets leaving Merlin without any word but she could not run the risk of him coming to harm through association with her and her perceived 'magical abilities'. There were some men who might describe her abilities in such a way but they were down to practice rather than magic. She had quickly realised that the better she was, the more coin she could earn.

Now, she fears that she will have to start anew in another city in another kingdom. Perhaps it will not be so bad, perhaps what she needs is a fresh start. In any case, Gwen is sure that people will appear once more looking for her and as before, she does not want to be found.

While she does not harbour any longing to remain a whore, for that is what she is, Gwen cannot live here knowing that the people around her know to what depths she has sunk in order to survive. She cannot live with that shame.

* * *

_**Ok, so this is where I find myself with this fic. If anyone has any ideas that they would like to throw at me, please feel free to let me know and I will see what I can do **_

_**x**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: ok, after a lot of consideration here is a third chapter to this fic. Thank you to everyone who reviewed for their support.**

**Extra thanks go to **_**AudiRox**_**, **_**GuardianIzz**_** and **_**ecbatana**_** for their ideas and suggestions.

* * *

**

Gwen wakens to the now-familiar scent of sandalwood on the silken sheets that envelop her. The fragrance that she once found to be comforting and exotic is now cloying in her nostrils and clings to her skin like a film which won't wash off no matter how hard she tries.

She has been in the kingdom of Sorestan for over a year now but it feels to her like a lifetime. She has gone up in the world. Well, that is, if you call being a courtesan to a king 'going up in the world'. It had been a peculiar turn of events…

_It was a winter's night like any other at The Prancing Horse. Business was slow due to the poor weather , just the usual patrons drinking at the bar and the usual patrons currently occupying the upstairs rooms. Like the other girls, Gwen was making conversation with some of the drinkers, partly to ply her trade and partly just for the company._

_The front door opened then, letting in a swirl of snow and icy wind. Through the doorway came a group of four men cloaked and hooded against the elements. They stamped their boots on the doormat and shook the snow from their clothing. As they took a corner table, they removed their cloaks to reveal three of the men to be soldiers bearing the black sword and emerald background of the Sorestan crest. Wary eyes scanned the inn, seeking out any possible dangers. The fourth man, however, carried himself differently. Instead of the hardened visage of professional fighting- men, this one's features was not exactly soft but rather, it was somehow more expressionless, more careful. More significantly, it was he to whom the other men appeared to defer._

_As one of the few girls who could put men at ease almost immediately, Gwen was nudged by the innkeeper who indicated the newcomers with a meaningful nod. She walked with casual grace to their table, ready to take their drinks order._

_000000000000000000000000_

_The important-looking man watched the serving girl as she approached his group. He had seen (and been with) enough women of all social classes but he had never been as struck by them as he was by this one. Although pretty, he would not say she had the ravishing beauty of his previous mistress and neither did she emanate the raw physical allure of his current lover. In truth, she was what most would describe as 'sweet' or 'charming'._

_Nevertheless, there was something quite alluring about her and that was before she had spoken a single word. When she reached them and took their order, he was taken with the calm, soft tones that came from her mouth. In a flash, he knew that he had to get to know her better._

_00000000000000000000000000_

_Valmai, the innkeeper, smiled as she noticed the man's silent reaction to Gwen. The older woman was sharp as a tack and had eyes like a hawk that noted everything that occurred within her establishment. It was a trait that was essential for her trade – if she didn't pay attention to the subtle signals that people gave out, she could not cater appropriately to her clients just as she could not effectively keep her employees safe from unsavoury characters. Despite what anybody might think of her occupation, Valmai was as good as employer as any. She ensured that her employees were paid fairly, well-treated and well-housed and that they were not knowingly exposed to danger. In addition to her girls and other inn staff, Valmai also employed several guards – men of various shapes and sizes but who all shared formidable fighting skills. It was not uncommon for Valmai to send her guards to eject those clients who threatened or otherwise endangered the well-being of her staff regardless of which area they worked in. It was also not unknown for those evicted to be thrown outside with nothing but some bruises on their bodies as a reminder to never frequent The Prancing Horse again. It said much about the inn that it was not only men who visited the premises and it was not only women who worked for Valmai._

_She felt a special fondness for the young woman. Ever since she had arrived on the doorstep of The Prancing Horse, Valmai had been protective of the girl who pleaded for work and who had broken down when it was explained to her what duties would be expected of her. With her morale at its lowest ebb, Gwen had sobbed her sorrowful tale to the older woman who provided her with a warm meal and a warm bed for the night. Gwen was also given the advice to spend the next day or two considering whether or not she really wanted to enter into such a profession._

_Valmai had seen straight away that although the young woman had great inner strength, she also lacked the hardness that was required by any woman (or man) who stayed in this profession for any length of time. The innkeeper was afraid the gentleness that made up such a big part of Gwen's nature would be lost. She had seen it happen to so many – she had had it happen to herself. Valmai still had to remind herself that she still had a business to run and as unsavoury as it might be to the community at large, it was members of that very same community who kept her running. Thus, it was up to her to make sure that everyone involved was looked after as well as possible and it was she who helped to create 'Lyneth' and keep Gwen safe from prying eyes._

_It had not taken long for Gwen to lose her innocence, in more ways than one, and for the softness in her eyes to leave and be replaced by an emptiness which showed no sign of ever leaving. _

_Valmai sighed when she saw the change in the girl._

_0000000000000000000000000_

_He looked up to see the bustling innkeeper coming towards him – not to his table but to him. A friendly but quiet conversation that subsequently took place informed him that he might be able to pursue his interest in the girl who had served him and his companions their refreshments._

_To cut a long story short, he had spent the night with Gwen and become so taken with her that he offered a position with his household. He offered her an escape even though she was still paying with her body, at least it would only be to one man rather than to numerous men._

_Gwen supposed that she could do worse and that any possibility of a better life was worth grasping at._

_Valmai wished her well and hoped that the young woman would eventually find a way out of a life that would eventually chew her up and spit her out when her looks faded and her heart hardened beyond repair._

_000000000000000000000000_

_Gwen was astounded when she arrived at her new 'sponsor's' home and she was even more stunned to find out that he was the King of Sorestan. At the inn, he had just been another nobleman come to spend some coin for a night of entertainment with a comely lass.

* * *

_

The life Gwen now leads is that of a bird in a gilded cage. Other girls might look on enviously when they see a young woman clothed in fine gowns, wearing delicate baubles of gems and is the obvious favourite of Sorestan's King Fraomar. It appears that Gwen is living a charmed life but she knows differently. She knows that she lives according to his whims – for the moment, it suits the king to have her on his arm, she is still new enough that his interest in her has not waned and her conversation intelligent enough to keep his attention. However, when King Fraomar finally tires of her company, she will be powerless should he decide to banish her from the court or Sorestan itself or if he felt like, he might decide to get rid of her altogether. She has heard the stories of how he had dispatched previous lovers who he had suspected of plotting against him or who he had made trumped up charges against in order to hasten their departure.

For now, though, he treats her favourably and provides 'Lyneth' with a stipend to furnish herself with any luxuries that take her fancy. Gwen, though, remains the resourceful young woman that she has always been and rather than fritter away the money, she saves it and keeps it safe along with her earnings from her time at The Prancing Horse.

Hope increases in direct proportion to her savings and a plan is forming in her mind. For the time being, however, Gwen will continue to smile prettily at her new master and perform her role skilfully.

* * *

"I shall, of course, wish you to be present tonight." King Fraomar instructs the caramel-skinned woman lying in his arms. He is pleased with the playmate that he found on the outskirts of Camelot on his way home from a brief visit to the Pendragon court. She has served him well thus far and he is surprised to find that he has not already become bored and replaced her with a new toy.

Gwen does not show the melancholy that settles over her. She hates how she is flaunted by Fraomar at these feasts and she knows that he does it deliberately to scandalise visiting guests who then spend the rest of the evening whispering about her and flickering judging glances at her then looking quickly away when she turns to face them directly.

Courtesans are tolerated, even expected, within royal courts but it is neither of these things for them to be so brazenly displayed for all and sundry to see. However, Gwen cannot refuse lest she risk losing everything before she is ready to go.

"Of course, sire." Gwen makes sure there is a smile in place as she looks up at him.

* * *

"Right, Merlin, just be on your best behaviour tonight. It's important to make a good impression as an enduring alliance would be of great benefit to Camelot." Arthur wants the night to pass as quickly as possible. He is tired and only wants to return home. He doesn't really think that Merlin will show him up or neglect his duties but it helps him to feel more settled.

"Yes, Arthur. I know." Merlin says this quietly. He knows that Arthur has never been quite himself since the whole business with Tom and Gwen. Nobody had expected it to cause the degree of upheaval that had taken place and both Arthur and Morganna had seemed very discomfited by Gwen's departure from the castle and even more so by the lack of word either from or about her.

While life at Camelot had continued, it has never fully recovered from the loss of two well-loved members of its community.

* * *

Merlin tries to keep his face straight and not look overwhelmed by the opulence surrounding them in the feasting hall.

"Welcome, welcome to my humble home." The deep voice of King Fraomar booms out to meet Arthur and his entourage. While the blond man returns the greetings, Merlin's attention is captured by the woman standing just behind the king. She is wearing a blue gown of soft velvet and her usually long, curly hair has been swept up and pinned to her head but there is no doubting that it is Gwen.

When Merlin looks across at Arthur, he sees that the prince has also noticed while Fraomar gestures for her to step forward.

"Might I also present to you, Lyneth." There is no further introduction for her - the rest is for the visitors to guess and it is clear from the proprietary way the king places a hand on her back that she is here only because of him.

The colour has drained from her face as she realises who Sorestan's guests are while Merlin and Arthur share a look.

_Lyneth?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: **_**as **_**GuardianIzz **_**correctly pointed out, this is **__not__** an arwen fic and revolves around Gwen as the main character. It is also set in series one before there was any arwen-ness so love isn't really in the air in this story. Apologies to anyone who was hoping for fluffiness. **_

_**Having said that, never say never – I might be able to slip some kind of shippyness in there somehow**_

* * *

Gwen makes sure to stay out of the way as much as she can during the feast. She keeps a cautious eye out for her compatriots from Camelot but their attention is taken by Fraomar and other Sorestanian nobles who wish to know more of the visitors although every so often, Gwen can feel the questioning eyes of Merlin on her.

She has always found Merlin's gaze to be more unsettling than anybody else's. His eyes are so plaintive in their open honesty and compassion that she feels an emotion she long ago learnt to bury. She feels shame at what and who she is now. It did not matter when there was no-one around who knew her but here, under the eyes of the person who was once her best friend and the prince of the place she once called home, Gwen can barely face herself let alone them.

* * *

The clear grey eyes of Fraomar had seen the close attention that Arthur paid his courtesan when she was introduced them and he continues to see the way his eyes follow her throughout the feast. He is older than Camelot's prince and his handsome dark looks never leave him short of female company but he has never allowed them to interfere with his life. They are always for his convenience – never the other way round – and this holds true for his latest companion.

Nevertheless, there is something intense and somehow personal about the way the blond prince watches Lyneth that sends a flash of jealousy through him although a part of him also coldly recognises it as his competitive streak getting the better of him.

It would not be the first time if he were to offer a courtesan's professional services to his guests if they expressed an interest in her. He decides that this occasion will be no different and he swallows his irrational feelings. Besides, he is always careful to dispense with his mistresses as soon as any inconvenient emotions rear their heads. It seems that now is the time to think of replacing the one who attends him at present.

* * *

"Tell me, Arthur," Fraomar leans discreetly towards the prince. "I see that Lyneth has caught your eye. You find her agreeable?"

The unexpected question startles Arthur and his blue eyes widen and he is at a loss as to what to say. "Erm, I suppose so…" he is vague, not wishing to offend his host but neither does he want to give the wrong impression although he suspects he already has since Fraomar gives him a knowing look and the enigmatic smile of someone aware of another's secret. It has been frustrating for Arthur who has been wanting to speak to her but she has studiously avoided him and Merlin all night.

Arthur feels an odd sensation as if he is being scrutinised by the Sorestanian whose face reveals little expression before it relaxes and he surveys their surroundings with a more open smile. "Good, good." Fraomar gestures at the gathering at large. "Come, let me introduce you to some more of our guests."

* * *

"At last!" grimaces Arthur when finally, the feast is over. It is late and he is returning to his rooms. He notices that Merlin is tired as well and uncharacteristically takes sympathy on his friend. "Go to bed, Merlin. I'll be fine from here."

"Are you sure?" Merlin cannot hide his surprise.

"Of course I'm sure. I think I can manage to get to bed all by myself – I'm not completely helpless, y'know." Arthur rolls his eyes. Sometimes he suspects that Merlin treats him like a child.

"Alright then." Merlin doesn't need telling twice. "Good night, sire." Unable to believe his good fortune, the darker man trots briskly away to the bed that has been prepared for him in the servants quarters. Before he goes though, he turns round and regards Arthur a little sadly. "It's a pity we weren't able to speak to her tonight."

The prince purses his lips and involuntarily nods his head in agreement. "Goodnight, Merlin."

Arthur stifles a yawn as he continues on his way. Opening the door of his chambers, he walks in and carefully closes it behind him. Candles have been lit in readiness for him and the fire stoked up so the room is at a comfortable temperature. The bed looks inviting – it is a four poster and the drapes around the bed have already been drawn, presumably to keep any warmth in. He undresses as he makes his way over, placing his discarded clothing on a cushioned seat on which Merlin had earlier laid out the pair of light, loose trousers which he wears at night. Quickly pulling them on, Arthur pulls back one of the drapes and climbs tiredly into bed.

"Yaarghhh!" Arthur leaps back out when he realises he is not alone. He tugs back the rest of the drapes to reveal the form of Guinevere in his bed. She is posed seductively – the blankets arranged over her body to reveal smooth shoulders and arms as well as a tantalising hint of bosom.

* * *

She has been waiting here in Arthur's bed for what she estimates has been roughly an hour. She was startled when one of Fraomar's bodyguards had approached her earlier that evening and with a subtlety that belied his large, muscular frame, ushered her quickly from the main hall and told her what his master had commanded her to do.

Gwen has never been so scared and nervous in her life, not even when she was banished from Camelot nor when confronted by her first ever 'customer'. At those times, she always knew she would find a way to survive because she is nothing if not a survivor. This, though, is different. Her first instinct had been to run as fast and as far as her feet would carry her but she quickly realised that it was an unrealistic option – she would be caught before she even got past her quarters let alone past the main gates. Thus, she was duly escorted (more like coerced) to Prince Arthur's room and instructed to make herself appealing in anticipation of his return.

* * *

His reaction is not that which she is used to from the men who meet her. She immediately pulls the covers up to her chin as she feels embarrassment fire her cheeks.

"Sorry, my lord. I thought this was what you wanted." Gwen cannot meet the blue eyes which still occasionally haunt her dreams and she is now stuck as to how she can extricate herself from this situation without further shame. She starts to inch her way back from him whilst hanging on tightly to the uppermost cover.

Arthur recovers himself enough to reach out across the bed to stop her progress.

"Guinevere. Gwen." Arthur's voice sounds soft even to his own ears. He can hardly believe that she is here in front of him after so long. He sees him shake her head faintly as if denying the name that has come from his lips. Slowly and cautiously he steps round to stand next to where she is awkwardly perched at the edge of the mattress.

"My name is Lyneth, sire." Her voice is faint, almost a whisper. Her face is turned away from him.

Arthur shakes his head. He cannot let her go now, especially not when he has just found her and in these circumstances. He carefully places fingertips beneath her chin and tilts her head up so their eyes meet.

"No. You _are_ Guinevere Leodegrance and I have wronged you." He takes a deep breath. "My father and Camelot have wronged you."

* * *

_**Sorry for the incredibly long delay in update, circumstances haven't really allowed for fic-ing so to anyone who is still interested in this story, thanks for following it!**_

_**x**_


End file.
